


The Savior King and the Spirit of Winter

by LandOfMistAndSecrets



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Azure Moon Route, Bathtub Sex, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Frank Discussions About Dimitri's Mental Health, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Time Skip, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:09:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21814948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LandOfMistAndSecrets/pseuds/LandOfMistAndSecrets
Summary: Felix pulls Dimitri out of the capital for awhile, for his own good. In the middle of winter. In northern Faerghus.Nothing goes wrong, of course.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 13
Kudos: 233
Collections: 2019 Dimilix Holiday Exchange





	The Savior King and the Spirit of Winter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nikkiRA](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nikkiRA/gifts).



> Written for the 2019 Dimilix Exchange for my recipient, Nicole!! Happy holidays & hope you enjoy :3

They arrived on Fraldarius lands ahead of the weather, though all in the king’s restrained procession were seen to raise their eyes to the sky and mutter to themselves, more than once. The soothsayers and the sages all agreed that the bitter winds blowing south from Sreng lands carried with them a quantity of ice and snow that even the Kingdom should take notice of, accustomed as it was to winter storms. 

The king himself did not seem to pay much mind. He rode at the head of the column, responding to little, seeming not even to see the winding road ahead. An especially close observer might have noticed the way he lifted his chin when they crossed that invisible border into Fraldarius, perhaps in recognition of the fort that marked the waypoint, but there were few who could stand to look into his face when it took on that familiar, distant expression. That listless look meant days, perhaps weeks of brooding moods and muttered pacing, little sleep and long looks, self doubts and self destructive tendencies. 

The public at large never knew, of course. It was only those closest to the king that saw him in that state, making excuses for him that the people, in their grace, accepted only too gladly. 

And among those who shared that honor and that burden, both, Duke Felix Fraldarius was without a doubt the closest. He rode proudly at his side, straight backed and flinty-eyed, quietly leading the procession in the truth while everyone politely pretended otherwise. He leaned over on occasion to murmur words at the king, muffled to all others by the rising wind, and though those was rarely a response, time and again his Majesty’s haunted gaze did turn up, his lips twitching faintly, a glimmer of awareness and acknowledgement and, if one chose to interpret it that way, _affection_ rising above all the rest. 

It was just like Duke Fraldarius, those at the back of the procession could be heard to say, sighing to themselves and to each other, too. Racing the wrath of nature in the very depths of midwinter, arranging a secret sojourn away from the weight of obligation and necessity in Fhirdiad for the sake of his Majesty’s health and spirits. 

The roiling black clouds in the distance made everyone nervous, but still they pressed on, knowing full well that his Grace would deliver them all safely, even if he had to duel the spirit of winter itself to do so. 

In the tales written about the procession later -- much, much later -- Felix would find himself doing just that: challenging the ephemeral Spirit of Winter to single combat for the release of the captured Savior King’s soul. A ridiculous tale, but one he would read aloud often for the way Dimitri grinned to hear it… and later, for Dimitri’s children, as well. 

*

The storm fell upon that little border fort with a rare sort of fury, turning the sky black and the day to deepest night. The king and his private procession were welcomed with all haste indoors, though the fort’s put-upon general apologized over and over that their amenities were not to royal standards. Until, of course, Felix grew tired of his mincing and silenced him with a sharp word and a steely glare. They needed only a reasonable supper and rooms with enough blankets and hearthfire to ward off the worst of the cold. 

And a kettle, he added, with a sidelong glance at Dimitri’s pale and downturned face. His Majesty absolutely needed to take his tea. 

The man nodded most graciously, then, and gave the appropriate orders, and soon that little procession from the capital had dispersed itself throughout the fort, some to the dining hall, some to the knight’s quarters, and some to their rooms at the heart of the fortress, quickly turned out to host the king. 

It was to the latter that Felix led Dimitri. His Majesty was tired from the journey, he explained to the curious, which was not entirely false. No one asked direct questions. These were Fraldarius lands, after all. Discretion was a given.

Still, when Felix closed the door firmly behind them, he found himself more relieved than he’d expected to be. Finally, somewhere with some measure of privacy! The fire had been prepared ahead of their arrival, the bin beside the hearth stacked high with wood, and as requested, a kettle and a pitcher sat on a rolling tray table not far from the canopied bed. 

Dimitri wandered to the center of the room, paused, and tilted his face up at the fire. There were no outward facing windows, here in the center of the fort, but the howling of the wind was audible still through the chimney. Gusts of wind blew occasionally down its length, making the embers glow and the ashes stir. 

For a moment, Felix held his breath, waiting to see what he would say -- if he would say anything at all. But the moment passed in silence, and Dimitri simply raised his hands before the fire, warming them without a word. 

There were worse things than silence, Felix reasoned. He shook himself and set about preparing the tea. 

He didn’t know the particulars of the blend. Dedue had attempted to explain it to him, once, and Ashe far more than once, but the truth was, Felix didn’t much care what was in it. What Felix cared about was _results._ He faithfully reported back in letters what effects each new iteration on the formula seemed to bring, what seemed better and what seemed worse, and Dedue would add or subtract components as he deemed best, explaining as he always did that there was no simple cure, no quick solution, and _stability_ should be the quality they valued most.

He could almost hear the man’s dry words, speaking at his ear. _The tea will accomplish little, if his Majesty is not maintaining a sensible schedule. He must sleep at a reasonable time, and though it may be tempting to let him rest, he must wake at a reasonable hour, too._ _If he seems distracted, a walk in the gardens may help ground him, and if his mood goes foul, you must not challenge him directly. Patience and understanding, Felix. Do you understand?_

He sighed, dropping the leaves in place, letting them steep in water that was not quite boiling hot. 

The scent seemed to draw Dimitri’s attention. 

“Are you brewing tea?” he asked, and Felix near jumped out of his own skin. He hadn’t heard his voice so clearly in days. Dimitri tilted his head, and Felix hastened to nod, turning to face him. 

“It’s your tea,” he explained. “From the monastery. Dedue’s blend, remember?” 

Dimitri nodded. “I remember this place,” he said, opening his arms, and turning a half step around. Felix did not think he meant this exact room, precisely. The fort itself, perhaps. 

“You would have passed through it half a hundred times, on your way to castle Fraldarius,” Felix shrugged. “I know I certainly have, though this may be my first time _staying._ ” 

“No…” Dimitri hummed, thoughtfully. “Yes. We stayed, now and then, when the weather… ah. I used to insist, when… Fraldarius, yes. I would beg to come along, even when I knew I oughtn’t, and you would need to stop more often, no matter how I insisted I could keep going.” 

“ _They_ would need to stop more often,” Felix corrected him, sharply. “I wasn’t there. I was waiting for you, in Fraldarius.” 

“...They,” Dimitri agreed, slowly. “I remember the courtyard, in winter.” He turned toward the wall, as though there were some window to it that only he could see. “My stepmother hated the cold, so she would stay indoors. I would watch the other children in the snow. Jealously, I think.” He looked over at Felix, then, meeting his eyes, his brow creasing just above the bridge of his nose. “She’s dead, isn’t she, Felix? She helped to arrange it all, so much bloodshed, just so she could return home… but she never made it back to Enbarr.” 

Felix made a noncommittal sound, and poured the tea. “So it would seem,” he said. “Here.” He gestured him over, raising the cup in quiet suggestion. “Are you hearing her voice, today?” 

Dimitri shrugged. He obeyed the suggestion, slowly, trundling over to the cart and the kettle and Felix’s offered teacup. “It is not her voice,” he said, dully. “It is my own fear that sounds so much like her. My own worry that I drove her to make the decisions she did. My own mind that speaks at me with her voice and tells me that if I had been a better child, perhaps…” 

Dimitri took the cup, his eyes shadowed and his fingers shaking, and Felix bit down his own instinctive response -- to stomp and yell and make harsh demands. He took a deep breath, instead. Thought carefully. Remembered the things Dedue and Mercedes had cautioned him about, the advice they had given him. 

“That’s right,” he said, calm and conversational. “Your fears and your worries. Dimitri. You were so young. Nothing you could have done would have changed her mind. There were forces at work beyond our understanding. None of it was your fault.” 

Dimitri sipped at his tea, nodding. “I asked her, once. To come outside with me, and play in the snow. You have to understand, Felix, she never seemed angry. She would look at me with such… sadness, and the thought that I had disappointed her was always worse. I wish, just once, she _had_ been angry. Perhaps then, I would understand better, why…” 

Felix grit his teeth together, jaw aching. Patience, he reminded himself. “Some things will forever be beyond our understanding,” he said. “It doesn’t make them our fault.” 

Dimitri smiled at him over his cup, and took another drink. “I’m very frustrating, aren’t I?” he said. 

“Yes,” Felix said, because there was no point in lying about it. 

Dimitri nodded, his smile slowly fading, turning his face to the fire. “I am sorry,” he sighed. “You can go, you know. Whenever you like. I won’t lose myself, again. Or hurt myself.” 

“Or sleep,” Felix said. He recognized the hurt in Dimitri’s voice, and so he made his response gentle, teasing. “Or eat. Or finish your tea.” 

“I’ll finish the tea,” Dimitri whined.

“Dimitri,” Felix said, severely. “Look at me.” 

He did so, reluctantly, turning his head slowly, like it took all the effort it had in him. Perhaps it did. 

“I _do_ find you frustrating,” Felix said, ignoring resolutely the way Dimitri flinched back at the words. “I don’t feel adequate to the task of accompanying you through this. I feel, sometimes, that I am the last person who ought to be here for you, for this! But I want you to understand as well that the thought of leaving your side for even a moment is completely unfathomable to me, because I care for you. Do you understand? I will never leave you, never again, no matter how frustrated I am.” 

“Felix…” Dimitri murmured, softly. His one eye had gone wide and wet and impossible to look directly at. A soft moment passed between them, Felix coughed and averted his gaze… and the sharp, shocking sound of cracking porcelain shattered the moment just as brutally and efficiently as Dimitri’s unthinking, too-tight grip on his teacup shattered that to pieces, too. Hot tea and shards of porcelain showered the brick of the hearth and the floor around it, and Dimitri made a shocked, apologetic sound, stepping abruptly back. 

Felix snorted at him, snapping up a towel from the tea cart. “Did you burn yourself?” he demanded. “Let me see.” 

“No, I… I’m fine. But the tea…” 

“There’s more tea,” Felix said, taking his wrist in hand and examining him closely. No cuts, no lasting burns. Good. “There are more cups, too, though perhaps I should request sturdy tankards from the mess hall, instead. You’ll have a harder time shattering those, I’d wager.” He patted at him with the towel, rolling his eyes. Dimitri gave him an utterly despairing look. 

“Why does anyone put up with me?” he wondered aloud. “You, most of all. I can’t understand it.” 

Felix snapped the towel at him, and then tossed it aside onto the bricks. He put his hands on his shoulders, rising up on his toes to reach, and glared furiously up into his blinking, bewildered face. 

“We put up with you because we love you, Dimitri,” he sighed. “All of us.” He tilted his head, and gave him a particularly suggestive little smile. “But, yes, because the Goddess has a sense of humor -- somehow, me, most of all.” 

“Felix…” Dimitri breathed, reaching out to put his own hands on Felix’s hips. He smiled back, slowly, his one good eye still shining. “Thank you.” 

He rolled his eyes, and sighed up at him. “Of course. Here. Let me pour you another --” 

“Another cup, yes,” Dimitri said, uncharacteristically interrupting. “But, first, if I may…” 

“If you may…?” Felix’s brow creased. 

Dimitri flushed. “May I kiss you, Felix?” 

“Oh.” He blinked, and let out a startled, incredulous sort of laugh, gazing up at him. He raised his eyebrows, and made a thoughtful, considering humming sound, tracing the shape of Dimitri’s lips with his eyes. “That depends. Will you try to eat, when they bring our supper?” 

“I -- yes. Of course.” 

“And will you come to bed when I ask, no matter how much you’d rather pace and wander?” 

Dimitri blew out a breath, hot against Felix’s face. “I will,” he said, resolutely.

“I see,” Felix smiled. “Well, then. I suppose you can kiss me, then, if you wish to so desperately.” 

“I do,” Dimitri said, and then he raised his hands to Felix’s cheeks, cradling his face, and leaned down to do just that. It was swift and dry and perfectly chaste, that kiss, and Felix made an annoyed sound and raised himself onto the very tips of his toes, chasing something more. He linked his fingers behind Dimitri’s neck and pulled him closer. Dimitri let out a low, knowing chuckle against his lips, and when Felix parted his own Dimitri tilted his head and gave him what he was after -- mostly. A quick slip of his tongue, a swift if thorough claiming, a brief moment with his hands tightened in Felix’s hair, and then he pulled back -- but not far, so their noses still practically touched. 

“Pour me another cup,” he said, softly. “I’ll be careful, this time.” 

Felix licked his lips, his heart racing even at just that brief contact. It had only been days since Dimitri had kissed him, last, but as always, it felt like so much longer. “Of course you will,” he breathed. He ran his fingers lightly through the hair at the back of Dimitri’s head, and then he disentangled his arms from around him and pulled back to follow orders. 

Tea. Right. 

As promised, Dimitri was much more careful, the second time. By the time a tremulous little knock at their door announced dinner, Felix had gathered the errant shards and pieces of the first teacup into a little pile on the cart, and Dimitri had finished his second cup without further incident. They took their meal in the room, seated across from each other at a little private table for the purpose, and as promised, Dimitri made an effort to clear his portion. The food was simple, hardly fit for a king -- boiled onion soup with bits of bacon and cheese broiled atop -- but it was well seasoned and sufficient to their needs. 

Felix set the empty dishes out with the cart, and when he turned back around, he found Dimitri seated atop the bed, kicking off his boots. 

He put his hands on his hips. “Retiring early?” he teased. 

Dimitri paused. “May I?” 

Lately, he hadn’t been sleeping much at all. He’d do everything in his power to avoid his bed, preferring to stay awake in his study, at his desk, or to pace the halls of the castle, or even to work himself to near exhaustion in the training yard, performing mindless rote lance forms until dawn. Felix let out a breath and shook his head, hiding the smile that tried to turn up the corners of his mouth with a tucked chin. 

“You’re the king,” he reminded him. “You can sleep whenever you like.”

“Hah.” Dimitri kicked off his boots and started on the buttons of his coat, shedding his clothing layer by layer. “Don’t let Dedue hear you say such things. He’s very adamant about scheduling.” 

“I’m aware,” Felix said. Dimitri turned his gaze up to him, and a frown tugged at his mouth as he considered the way Felix hadn’t yet moved to begin undressing at all. 

“Will you be staying, or…?” 

Felix scoffed at him. “Of course I will,” he said. “Like it or not. Someone has to make sure you actually _stay_ abed, once you’re there.” 

“Ah.” Relief visibly flooded his features, and Felix swallowed hard as an echo of tangled emotion tried to rise in him, too. “Good.” Dimitri tossed his coat aside, and then his long wool underlayers, until he was stripped down to his linens and shivering in the cold despite the crackling fire.

Helplessly, Felix followed suit. He’d wanted to get some more work done, himself -- they’d left Fhirdiad in some haste, and he had plenty of letters to write in service of smoothing _that_ over, but the way Dimitri looked at him, so hopefully… how was he supposed to resist? 

Dimitri slid between the sheets and furs, and then, hesitantly, held out a hand. “Join me?” he murmured. Cursing quietly under his breath, Felix slid in beside him, utterly helpless to disobey. Dimitri pulled him close, and Felix allowed himself to be pulled, sliding his arm over the broad expanse of his chest, tangling their legs together beneath the blankets, tucking his face into the crease of Dimitri’s neck, fragrant still from the rigors of travel. He laughed, quietly. 

“Tomorrow, I’m adding bathing to your list of responsibilities,” he teased. Dimitri tightened his arm around him, and let out a soft little laugh, himself. 

“If you insist,” he said. He was getting better at that, too. Letting people take care of him, when he needed to be taken care of. 

Felix waited there, tangled up with him and half atop him, his face pressed against his chest, listening for the telltale sound of his heartbeat slowing and his breath evening out into the rhythm of sleep. It took some time, as it always did -- in the meantime, Dimitri would mutter softly under his breath, slide his hands through Felix’s hair, squirm in place and toss and turn until Felix scolded him with a sharp word and a soft kiss. 

It was a relief when Dimitri finally did drift off into sleep. He had his nightmares, still, and Felix dealt with those as he always did -- soft touches, encouragement and reassurances murmured into Dimitri’s ear -- but that he slept at all was a sign that he had turned a corner, and tomorrow would be better than the day before. 

*

Overnight, the snow came down, and down, and down. It fell thick and deep and cold, ankle deep, then knee deep, then too deep for the patrols about the fort to keep up their routes. It blew against doors and then against window sills and then crawled up the windows themselves, and made soft lumps and then smooth planes of the bushes and hedges and statues and the equipment left scattered in the yard, the carts near the wheelhouse, and even some of the smaller trees lining the walk. 

When dawn broke, the sky roiled grey and cloudy still, and Felix rolled over to find the bed beside him empty, as he often did. Dimitri was an early riser, even when his sleeping was perfectly on schedule. Still, a thread of anxious worry rose in him, and he jumped quickly from the comfort of the blankets, casting about the room for any sign of where he’d gone. 

Someone had fed the fire overnight, and stacked extra wood nearby in the bin. Someone had also carried off their cart from the previous night and provided a new one, this one laden with breakfast pastries and a steaming kettle -- with tea already brewed, from the smell of it. His lips quirked into a wry smile. Chamomile. Someone in the kitchen had been informed of the king’s preferences, it seemed. 

He was just about to throw on a robe and shoes and brave the halls when the lock turned and the door opened from the other side, admitting his wandering king back into his presence at last. 

Dimitri seemed surprised to see him awake. He seemed even more surprised at the look on his face, which Felix supposed must have been some potent cocktail of surprise, worry and anger, all at once. Dimitri held up his hands, soothing. 

“I didn’t go far,” he said, gently. There was a flush on his face, boyish excitement in his eyes. Felix felt his irritation drain away in favor of cautious optimism. “Felix! You need to see it. Snow higher than the gateway arch! They’re digging through to the stables to check the horses -- and when I say digging through, I really do mean, they are digging a _tunnel --_ ” 

“You must be joking.” He glanced about, unhelpfully, as their room had no outward facing windows, and returned his gaze to Dimitri’s face, brows furrowed. 

“It’s no joke,” Dimitri assured him. “Come down and see.” 

“I will,” Felix promised. “But first -- eat.” He gestured at the cart. Dimitri seemed to only become aware of its presence in that very moment. He made an impatient face, practically squirming from foot to foot, and then nodded acquiescence and picked a cheese pastry off the platter. “How long have you been up?” Felix asked him, cautiously. 

Dimitri seemed to understand the intent of the inquiry. “Not long,” he said. “No more than an hour. They’d only just started digging when I reached the landing, and I think your poor guard captain nearly keeled over from the shock seeing me.” He gave him an apologetic smile. “I told them not to concern themselves, but --” 

“But you’re the king,” Felix sighed at him. “Of course they concerned themselves.” 

Dimitri shrugged, nibbling at his pastry, and Felix took the opportunity to pour them both a cup of tea. He picked up a butter croissant, himself, still warm from the kitchen. It really must not have been waiting there for them long. 

There would be logistics to discuss, as a result of this storm. Relief efforts to ensure the townsfolk were cared for, that no one was trapped in their homes without food or firewood. Coordinated efforts to clear the roads. Every man, woman and child with the ability to lift a shovel would be out there breaking their backs, today, he suspected. 

Dimitri grinned at him, like he could read his mind. “I’ve already offered my help,” he said. “In truth, I’m looking forward to it. Something productive to do that can’t be done with a quill and ink at my desk, or a council room full of squabbling nobility…” 

“Of course you have,” Felix sighed. “Very well. We won’t keep them waiting long. I’m sure that monstrous strength of yours will be in high demand.” 

Dimitri puffed his chest out a bit, looking far more animated than Felix had seen him in weeks, and cautiously, he let a little trickle of fondness and relief flow through him. It seemed they _had_ turned that corner, put the worst of this latest fit of despondence at their backs. He studied Dimitri’s face, struggling to sort through all his feelings. Eventually, he gave up the effort entirely. There wasn’t time for such indulgence. They had a fortress to dig out. 

Felix met the guard captain and various administrators for quiet logistics talks, and in the meantime, Dimitri took the first shovel offered to him and went to work. He made short work of the tunnel to the stables, and then to the wheelhouse, and then he joined the not insignificant numbers of men and women working steadily to clear out the gateway and made headway along the road. Felix did his best to keep an eye on him, to ensure he did not _completely_ exhaust himself, but in truth each time they met for quick exchanges of notes and details and the occasionally amorous declaration -- much to his embarrassment -- Dimitri seemed more animated than the last. 

As the afternoon drew near, Felix took some time to simply watch him from the walls. 

It did him good to spend time with the common folk, he reflected, watching him with his shovel -- his fourth of the day, as he’d snapped the handles of the first three in various incidents, most involving scooping up simply _too much_ ice and snow in one go. The children of the fort, mostly apprentices in the kitchens and squires to the knights, flocked to him in groups, some of the braver ones climbing onto his back and shrieking laughter as Dimitri lifted them one by one like hand weights. His newest shovel bowed dangerously in the middle as he lifted it, laden one on either side by children hanging from the ends, and there was an explosion of cheers and more laughter as he easily hefted it and the young ones over his head. 

Felix couldn’t help but smile, watching it all unfold. Dimitri always worried about his own popularity, always talked about how undeserving he was, but it was moments like these that would stick with the people, Felix thought. These children would remember this day all their lives, and when they were grown, they’d tell their own children in nostalgic tones about the day the Savior King had dug them all single handedly free of the worst snow in a decade, laughing with them all the while, as though the effort cost him nothing. 

But Felix knew it all took its toll. When they gathered for lunch, he pulled Dimitri discreetly aside. Fresh snow had begun to fall in lazy, spinning gusts. Felix reached up and brushed a few errant flakes from Dimitri’s hair, gazing up at his flushed face. “Let the guardsmen take a turn at the gate,” he suggested. Dimitri caught his wrist and pulled him close, wearing an absolutely boyish grin. 

“I will,” he said. “I already promised the cook I’d clear out her hen houses.” 

Felix frowned. “The cook has staff to see after their own damned hens,” he said, sourly. “She hardly needs the _king_ to do it for her.” 

“No, but I offered,” Dimitri explained. “Really, Felix, I’m not tired in the least. Let me help.” 

“You are constantly overworking yourself,” Felix complained. “Whether it’s at the behest of nobles in Fhirdiad or the workers here in this border fortress, you --” 

“ _Felix,_ ” Dimitri groaned, pulling him closer, tight against him, tangling his hands in his hair. “Stop fretting over me!” 

Felix made a surprised sound, his face bouncing into the soft wool of Dimitri’s thick overcoat, pressed tight against his chest. Dimitri held him there, stroking his hair like he expected to be able to soothe him like a cat. He snorted, incredulously.

“I’m not sure I’m capable of not fretting over you,” he admitted, muffled into the fabric. 

“See? You overwork yourself, too.” Dimitri caught Felix’s chin in his hand and craned his face up, smiling down at him. “When I woke up this morning, do you know what I realized?” 

“I fear to even ask,” Felix said, blinking up at him. 

Dimitri scoffed. “I realized I had no idea why I was _here._ I hardly even remember leaving the castle. I thought, perhaps we were heading into town… I remember being astride my horse, and thinking the journey was more tiring than I could ever remember it being. I nearly asked you a dozen times, if we should turn back, but…” 

“You were distracted,” Felix finished for him, knowing it was true. Distracted by the voices in his head, the whispers that told him how worthless he was, how misguided, how selfish and foolish and all manner of other things that were not and had never been true. 

Dimitri nodded. “I should be furious at you, pulling me away from the capital like this, without even consulting with me.” 

“Are you?” 

“Of course not.” Dimitri ran the back of his fingers up the line of Felix’s jaw, and Felix couldn’t help but lean up into that touch, even as he became acutely aware that they were standing in a public hallway and anyone might happen upon them tangled up so intimately together any time. 

Not that it mattered, particularly. Their relationship was somewhat of an open secret, especially here. 

Still. 

“You intended to take me all the way back to castle Fraldarius, where _you_ could deal with the day to day, and I could rest and recover without every noble and wealthy merchant in the city demanding an audience of me, I imagine.” 

“Just for a little while,” Felix muttered. 

“In the midst of winter.” 

Felix shrugged. “If the Goddess happened to send some weather to keep us there longer, who am I to argue?” 

Dimitri tipped his head back and laughed, long and bright and genuine. Felix’s chest hurt, hearing it, but it was a welcome sort of ache. “So then what do you make of _this,_ ” Dimitri demanded, gesturing about. “It would seem the Goddess sent her weather somewhat earlier than you expected.” 

Felix sighed up at him, shaking his head. “If you’re going to argue with me that the Goddess herself wishes for you to exhaust yourself cleaning out hen houses...” 

“Not exactly,” Dimitri assured him, and that laughter lingered still in his voice and his expression and in the way he bent down over him, pressing his lips against Felix’s forehead like it was nothing. Felix made a strangled sound, flushing hot. “It’s a bit more broad than that. I’m arguing with you that the Goddess wanted us to be _here,_ where _neither_ of us is beholden to hold court or see to administrative affairs, and perhaps spend a few days simply _living._ ” He tilted his head. “Thank you for bringing me here,” he said, softly.

“Well, I didn’t intend to bring you here,” Felix grouched up at him, nose wrinkled, brows knit. “But you’re welcome all the same. Stop that. Someone will see.” 

“Felix,” Dimitri sighed. “Everyone already knows.” He pressed his fingers beneath Felix’s chin, turning his face up, and kissed him again, this time full on the mouth, lips parted, tongue delving deep. Felix made another low, shocked sound, one that was near fully absorbed into the heat of Dimitri’s mouth, and kissed him back, helpless as ever to resist. 

“Damn you,” he panted, when Dimitri finally let him free. He could feel how hot his face was. 

“I love you,” Dimitri said, smiling sweetly. “So much.” 

Felix ducked his head and gave it a shake, swallowing around a sudden ball of emotion tangled and gathered in his throat. “Well,” he said, clearing his throat loudly, “I love you, too. Mostly. Usually.” 

Dimitri thumped him on the back, and then, more gently, he threaded their arms together, pulling him back around toward the dining hall. “This isn’t court,” he said, softly. “Come with me, will you?” 

Felix didn’t have to ask what he meant. He simply sighed, and nodded, and let himself be led, cheeks blazing, leaning on the arm of the king. 

The afternoon passed quickly, after that. 

With Dimitri’s help, the people made significant headway clearing out the most vital paths along the fortress grounds and even back toward the little town at its base, and to everyone’s relief, the gentle snowfall that had begun at lunchtime remained light, merely dusting over their efforts. Supper seemed to follow in a blink, and Felix sat again at Dimitri’s side and endured toasts to their health and their happiness, painfully aware of the blush that crept up his neck and into his face and to the very tips of his ears. 

He ensured that Dimitri ate enough from his plate, too. He could get caught up, during such events, and forget to take even a single bite.

Exhaustion from the day’s efforts kept the merriment to reasonable scope and length, and before long, they were trudging up the stairs and to their chambers. Even Dimitri’s seemingly unending supply of stamina seemed to flag, his shoulders bowing as they crested the landing, side by side. Privately Felix nursed a growing fantasy of simply falling into bed together, exhausted, the moment they crossed the threshold, and sleeping the night through deeply and contentedly in each other’s arms. 

But of course, nothing could ever be so easy. 

Felix opened the door to find two attendants waiting in the room, with a tub of steaming bathwater between them. One of them, clearly a mage, lifted his hands from the water and smiled, wiping his hands on a towel. 

“Your Majesty,” he said, bowing low. “And your Grace, of course,” he said. 

“What are you doing here,” Felix demanded, too tired for niceties. The man blinked, taken aback.

“Ah. I was told to have a bath prepared, after supper? For, ah, his Majesty, I believe? I know it is not to the standards, perhaps, that --” 

“No,” Felix said, cutting him off, recalling begrudgingly that he _had_ mentioned a bath to Dimitri. “You’re right. I forgot. Sorry.” 

The man seemed utterly at a loss as to how to respond to _that._

Dimitri stepped in around him, laughing. “He doesn’t apologize easily,” he warned. “Good fortune, for you. It looks perfect, and I thank you both for the effort.” 

He really was good with people, when he was in a fit state to try. 

“I see,” the mage said, smiling tremulously at the king. “It was no trouble at all. Will you be needing anything further, your Majesty?” 

“Not at all,” Dimitri assured him. “Go on, and thank you again.” 

The man bowed, his silent assistant followed suit, and they practically scrambled out the door, together, one after the other. 

“I didn’t order a bath,” Felix said, the moment they were gone. 

“No, but you did tell me you were going to,” Dimitri said, approaching the steaming water with his brows quirked. “I decided somewhere between sweating through every single one of my layers, today, that it sounded like a good idea, and put in the order myself.” 

Felix sighed at him. “You _do_ need one,” he said, crossing his arms. “Quite desperately.”

Dimitri nodded. “Join me?” he suggested, placing one hand on the edge of the tub, his voice a gentle, wheedling plea. Felix flushed anew, to the very roots of his hair, and gave the tub a curious, considering look. It seemed sturdy enough. It had no doubt taken a tremendous effort to carry it up here, fill it, _and_ heat it, even with the assistance of magic. 

“You first,” he decided, gesturing pointedly at the collection of items left along with the towels. Soap and lotion and perfumed oils from the south. “They brought it for you, after all. And you need it more than I do.” 

“Do I?” Dimitri raised his brows. “Are you quite sure about that, Duke Fraldarius?” 

Felix gave him a _look_. Dimitri grinned, and then he obediently set about removing his clothing, layer by layer. He caught Felix’s quick attempt to look away from the sight, and made a rebuking sound, _tsking_ at him. 

“You won’t even watch?” he teased. “Should I take offense?” 

“I, just,” Felix sputtered, face hot, “It’s -- do you _want_ me to?” 

“Oh, yes,” Dimitri said, and the confidence with which he said it -- Saints above! Felix felt his face flush even hotter, somehow. “I want you to watch, and then, ideally, I want you to be so moved by the sight of it that you can’t help but join me, after all.” There was a telltale swish of cloth as Dimitri cast aside yet another article of clothing, and slowly, Felix opened his eyes and turned to look. 

Hah. It was a moving sight, all right. Bare to the waist, Dimitri gazed at him with his hands on his hips, a faint smile lighting his handsome face. Felix exhaled, slowly, letting his eyes wander. Well. He _was_ less exhausted, now, all of a sudden. Funny how that worked. He gestured at him. 

“Hurry up,” he suggested. “Before it gets cold.” 

Dimitri laughed, quietly, and then, with deft fingers, he undid his laces and eased his pants open down the front and loose around his hips. Felix kept his face carefully impassive, though internally, his heart had leapt up into the base of his throat and was hammering mercilessly there. It was ridiculous, actually. He’d seen Dimitri naked, before. They’d enjoyed each other every way there _was_ , and still, just the sight of him made him feel so much, so easily. 

“Dimitri,” he complained. He was delaying on purpose, just to tease him.

“All right,” Dimitri said. “But I do wish you would join me, Felix.” So saying, he slid himself out of his pants and his underthings altogether, and took a moment to simply stand there in the nude, no doubt so that Felix could admire him. 

Which he did. At length. As though it were possible for him to do anything else. 

When his ego was satisfied, Dimitri turned and stepped into the tub, hissing softly at the heat of the water. Only when he was fully immersed and safely seated did Felix dare to approach, stripping off only his outer layers as he did so. He picked up a bar of soap as he passed.

“I don’t think that tub is big enough for us both,” he said, reasonably. 

“Nonsense. Sit here in front of me, Felix. I’ll wash your hair, for you.” 

“I don’t need you to wash my hair.” 

“I’ll scrub your back, too…” 

“Be quiet.” He walked around to the back of the tub, soap in hand, already intending to do those very same things for Dimitri. Which he no doubt knew, and was teasing him for. Dimitri leaned his head back against the rim of the tub, sinking low into the water, and tipped his head back to watch him approach. 

“Felix,” he sighed. “The water really is heavenly. You’d enjoy it, I think.” 

“Sit up,” Felix ordered him. Dimitri did so, water sloshing as he moved. Felix dragged a chair from the far side of the room over to seat himself at the head of the tub, and Dimitri sighed again as he settled himself, letting Felix slip his hands into the water behind his shoulders and draw it up to wet his hair. He slid his fingers beneath the strap of Dimitri’s eyepatch, sliding it free and setting it carefully aside, away from the water.

“So stubborn,” Dimitri said, mournfully. 

Felix worked the soap to a lather between his hands. “Maybe I just know that if I climb in there with you, cleaning yourself up will be the last thing on your mind.” 

“Well, of course,” Dimitri murmured. “I’ll be busy servicing you, won’t I?” 

Felix made a soft sound, shaking his head. “Servicing,” he repeated, running his fingers through Dimitri’s damp hair, drawing up more water to lather with the soap. Dimitri leaned back against his fingers, and Felix could see the way he was smiling, so self satisfied. 

“Is that not what this is?”

“I know what you meant,” Felix snorted, softly. Ridiculous man. His body was responding, inevitably, to the teasing suggestion of his words. He gave the tub another long, considering look. It _might_ fit them both. They’d have to press close together, as Dimitri had said, but… wouldn’t they have, anyway? He bit back a laugh. “Sit up,” he said again, and Dimitri growled a protest but did as asked, leaning forward so that Felix could lather his hands and drag them firmly over his shoulders and down his back. He dug his thumbs into the knots of muscle he found there, and Dimitri groaned, appreciatively, tipping his head back.

“I want you to know,” he started, strangely hesitant. “I truly did have a very good day, today. I enjoyed the work. Helping others. Seeing them all, speaking to them all… I know it wasn’t your plan, precisely, but...” 

“I’m glad,” Felix said, and then he winced at how it had come out, sounding so curt and perfunctory. He blew out a slow breath, running his thumbs beneath Dimitri’s shoulder blades, searching out more tense muscles, taut with the lingering strain of the day’s efforts. “I mean that,” he said, feeling suddenly self conscious. He had never had a gift for words. “You seem better, today. It’s… good to hear you laughing, again.” 

“Mm,” Dimitri agreed, quietly. “It’s strange how little you see the people, when you are busy… ruling,” he sighed. “It’s so easy to lose sight of what matters. It’s the little things, isn’t it? These people don’t care about trade disputes and land treaties and who owns what copse of trees on the border. They care about the simple things. Their friends and neighbors…”

“And their horses and their hens, don’t forget,” Felix snorted. Dimitri laughed, again, softly. 

“And whether they’ll be able to go sledding off the fort parapets once they’ve finished their chores,” he said, very seriously. “That was a concern I heard voiced often, this morning.” 

Felix nodded. “You need to get out of that castle more often,” he decided. “The work will wait. This is all important, too.” 

“The work _won’t_ wait,” Dimitri said, sharply. But then his shoulders slumped anew and he sighed, leaning back, trapping Felix’s hands between his body and the wall of the tub. “But that doesn’t mean you’re wrong. This sort of thing is important. I should know these people, and they should have the opportunity to know me, as well.” 

“They really do love you, you know,” Felix said, yanking his hands free with some effort. He gave the back of his head and affectionate thump, and then he leaned in, cautiously, wrapping his arms around Dimitri’s bare, wet shoulders, folding his hands over his chest. He turned his head to murmur into his ear. “Every single one of them. They think you hung the damned moons.” 

“Funny,” Dimitri sighed. “That’s the way everyone accuses me of thinking about _you._ ” He turned his face to meet his, and, almost lazily, he leaned in to press their lips gently together. 

“You still have soap in your hair,” Felix said, murmuring against his mouth. 

“Well, whose fault is that?” 

“Yours.” 

Dimitri scoffed at him. “Felix,” he sighed. “Join me in here. Before it gets cold. Just for a little while.”

There was only so long a man could be expected to resist.

“All right,” Felix breathed, his willpower finally deserting him. He pulled his arms back to his sides. His sleeves were wet, warm water dripping from his wrists and fingers and elbows. He shivered, and then he set about undoing his buttons, one by one. Dimitri made a surprised sound, and then a pleased one, and Felix watched as he ducked his head beneath the water and rinsed his own hair out, perhaps in preparation. He shrugged off his shirt, and then pulled his undershirt off over his head, and then he shivered in the cool air even as the steam from the bath curled toward him and started on his pants. 

He was half hard already, by the time he swung his bare legs over the rim of the tub and climbed in with him, the water around them climbing dangerously high. He had roughly two seconds to feel self conscious about that before Dimitri was wrapping his arms around him, just as he’d said he would, and pulling him close against him in the water, revealing his own state of full, unabashed arousal. 

“Felix,” Dimitri murmured, crossing his arms over Felix’s chest and pressing his face against the back of his neck. Felix relaxed back against him, a foolish little grin stealing across his face before he could stop it. 

“The water _is_ nice,” he said, conversationally, as though it were the most interesting thing he had to talk about. Dimitri laughed, softly, and Felix leaned back against his touch as he carefully undid the tie in his hair, running his fingers through it as it all fell down loose around his shoulders. He felt Dimitri drag his lips gently over the shell of his ear, then down behind it, and when he began to work his way slowly down the side of his neck, an involuntary and unmistakably delighted little noise slipped out of him, emboldening Dimitri further. His hands slid over the muscled planes of Felix’s chest and stomach, his palms flat against his skin, and one moved high to tease at his nipples while the other slid low, slowly crawling over the soft skin of his abdomen. 

“It is, isn’t it?” Dimitri murmured, and he couldn’t have possibly missed the way Felix’s breath hitched and caught in his throat. “So warm and relaxing…” he slid his hips forward, letting the hot line of his arousal drag against him from behind. Felix shuddered in his arms, opening his legs shamelessly for him, as far as the close confines of the tub would allow. He’d known this was going to happen, but he couldn’t quite find the breath with which to growl so much as an _I told you so._

Dimitri took the offered invitation, sliding his hand down to tease over Felix’s bared thighs, skirting around all the places Felix _actually_ wanted him to touch. He made a frustrated sound, squirming back against him. 

“Dimitri,” he practically whined, and just like that, like he’d broken some sort of spell, Dimitri lifted his hands off him entirely. Felix made an unhappy sound. 

“Be patient, now,” Dimitri scolded him, and there was a brief busy sound as he rooted along the side of the tub for what he was after. Ah. The soap. He lifted it triumphantly. “I said I’d wash your hair, didn’t I?” 

Felix took a deep breath. “You did,” he agreed, his voice surprisingly even. 

Dimitri gathered Felix’s hair up in his hands, pulling him back gently to wet the full length of it, water splashing. “And that I’d scrub your back, as well.” 

“And here I thought you’d be too distracted to follow through.” 

“I find that I’m feeling very focused, lately,” he said, and a sweet, vaguely floral scent filled the air as he lathered up his hands and ran his fingers through the tangles of Felix’s hair. Felix hummed, softly, deciding that if Dimitri could be patient, he could be, too. 

Mostly. He wiggled his ass back against Dimitri’s cock, sliding along the length of him, teasing him with his body. 

Dimitri made a slow, soft hissing sound. “Unfair,” he whined, breathing into his ear. 

“You’re the one who insisted on this arrangement,” Felix said, blithely, moving his hips. 

Dimitri tightened his fingers in his hair. “Stop,” he said, low and commanding, and Felix’s breath caught and his hips stilled, almost instantly. Dimitri made a pleased sound, and recommenced with scrubbing his fingers through Felix’s hair. “I love how much you want me,” Dimitri breathed, water splashing as he worked. “How you tease and whine and squirm. But I love most of all when you obey me, Felix… So dutifully, without hesitation.” 

It was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe. Felix took shallow breaths, panting there before him, taut with stymied desire. “Then tell me what you want next,” he suggested. 

“To scrub your back, of course,” Dimitri said, all the humor in the world contained in the way his voice quivered. Felix licked his lips and swallowed, hard. He lifted himself forward, and Dimitri slid his hands dutifully down over his shoulders and his back, tracing down beneath his shoulder blades and up over the line of his spine. “You’re so beautiful,” he sighed.

“Stop that,” Felix hissed, covering his face with wet hands. 

“So fine and sweet,” Dimitri went on, teasing him. His hands slid around the curve of Felix’s body, over his ribs, up beneath his arms. “It’s a particular sort of pleasure, to be able to rinse the wear and strain of the day away with the man I adore so here in my arms, as well.” 

“Much more of that, and you’ll be bathing alone again, I assure you.” 

“Oh?” Dimitri chuckled, quietly, pressing his nose into the soft underside of his jawline. “I’d like to see you escape me, now… you can certainly try…” 

And he hooked a possessive arm around him, holding him fast. Felix leaned back against him and covered his arm with one of his own, gripping his wrist. 

“Less _talking,_ ” he begged. “You can touch me however you like, do with me as you please, I’m here, aren’t I? Just stop -- talking.” 

“Do with you as I please,” Dimitri repeated, thoughtfully. Felix actually felt his cock twitch against him, down below. “I do like the sound of that.” 

“You’re still talking,” Felix complained.

“Where shall I touch you, Felix?” Dimitri teased. “Here?” he flattened his hand over his stomach, searching blindly, as though he didn’t know. Felix tugged his hand down by the wrist, insistently. “Ah, yes,” Dimitri encouraged him, following his lead. “Show me, Felix. Put me where you want me.” 

Felix made a disbelieving, scoffing sound. He could no doubt keep the bathwater warm himself, with the heat pouring off him at this treatment! Still, he had to try. He pushed Dimitri’s hand down, over his stomach and down between his legs, squirming to open them further, to give him better access. 

“Here,” he said, breathlessly, and he had the distinct pleasure of hearing _Dimitri_ make a shaky, breathless sound when he gathered his own cock between his fingers and pressed it into Dimitri’s hand. Slowly, they stroked down his length in tandem, his fingers and Dimitri’s both tangling around him, sending sparks of pleasure through him, building that telltale heat in his middle. Dimitri lifted his head and kissed the side of Felix’s face, dragging his own lips up to nuzzle at his temple, stroking his cock all the while.

Felix guided him for awhile, slow and sweet, and then he leaned back with a little growl and lifted his hips, letting one leg hang over the rim of the tub so he could hold himself wider, shameless and wanting. Dimitri’s breath hitched and his pace quickened, and simultaneously down below, he rocked his own hips, letting himself drag against the seam of Felix’s ass. 

The water sloshed dangerously at the rim of the tub, and Felix let out a breathless, incredulous laugh. 

“We’re going to make a mess,” he warned. 

“I certainly intend for _you_ to,” Dimitri agreed, thumbing over the head of Felix’s cock, squeezing him there. Felix shuddered in his arms and shook his head, even as his hips moved with his teasing. 

“The water, I mean,” he gasped. The floor was hard, cold stone, and would hardly be worse off for it, but whoever came to collect all this would _know_ , surely, and -- 

“It doesn’t matter,” Dimitri said, kissing his temple, stroking his hair with one hand and his cock with the other. Felix groaned, far louder than he’d intended to be. “Let yourself go for me, Felix,” Dimitri whispered. “I want you well pleased… loose and agreeable and pliable for me, when I carry you to that bed, dripping still…” He dragged his body against him, below, the promise of it unmistakable. A choked, needy moan fell from Felix’s lips, unbidden. He wanted that, too, all of it. 

He let himself go, bucking into Dimitri’s hand, turning his head so that Dimitri could kiss him the way they both wanted as Dimitri worked him mercilessly, the water splashing and lapping at the rim of the tub. He pulled back only when he felt himself at the very precipice of his pleasure, and then only to choke out a rough, quick warning. Dimitri grinned and dipped his chin to capture his lips once more, squeezing and stroking.

Felix gasped against him when it hit, his body going taut and rigid, water slopping over the side of the tub to splash against the stone, some of it hissing and steaming as it met the heated bricks of the hearth. “Oh,” Felix gasped, squeezing his eyes shut as his cock jumped and emptied itself into the bathwater, pulsing in Dimitri’s grip. “Oh, oh, _Dimitri,_ ” he moaned, and when it was over and he’d spent himself entirely, he slumped bonelessly back against him, breathing hard. 

“Beautiful,” Dimitri repeated, speaking softly into his ear. Felix shook his head, desperately. 

“Stop that,” he begged, not for the first time, certainly not for the last. Dimitri let his cock drop gently from his grip, and ran his palm soothingly up the inside of his thigh. 

“Do you feel good, Felix?” 

“Yes…” Felix admitted, breathing hard, still. 

“Shall I carry you to bed, and have my way with you?” 

“Yes and yes, please,” Felix replied, instantly, eagerly. Dimitri only said things like this when he was _deep_ in the pull of his own desire, and just knowing he felt like that… Goddess above. It was heady beyond words. “Please, Dimitri,” he murmured, wiggling back against him. 

“Very well,” Dimitri said. “Hold on.” He slid out from beneath him, pushing him forward, and extracted himself from the water with more splashing and hissing over the brick and stones. Felix fell back against his own elbows, alone in the water -- but not for long. Dimitri bent and gathered him up easily as anything, extracting him from the water as though he weighed nothing at all, grinning down at him with his own cheeks flushed with eager, embarrassed excitement. 

Felix, as ever, couldn’t meet his gaze for more than just a few moments. “You’re so damned strong,” he heard himself mumble, the words falling from his lips entirely independent of his own will. 

Dimitri turned and carried his dripping body to the bed. With one arm, he supported Felix’s full weight against his chest; with the other, he reached down and tore the furs and blankets and coverlet full back, exposing smooth, clean sheets. Felix shivered in his arms, half anticipation and half actual, genuine _cold_ \-- the bed was just far enough from the hearth -- and then Dimitri laid him out as promised and swung himself over him, and all thoughts of the chill fled his mind entirely. 

Especially when Dimitri lowered himself to press a slow, lingering kiss against his stomach, over his ribs, down further along his side to slope of his thigh where it met his body. Felix shuddered on his back, opening his legs wide. “Dimitri,” he murmured, urgently. His overstimulated, shrinking cock tried its best to twitch with interest, all the same. “Come on,” he begged. “Fuck me.” 

“I love it when you beg for me,” Dimitri gasped, lifting his head, settling himself where he belonged -- between his legs, looking down at him with adoration in his gaze. That one eye of his fairly burned with emotion, so bright Felix could hardly stand it. “Say it again.” 

Felix swallowed, hard, already opening his mouth to obey, when the scents of jasmine and lavender exploded around them, distracting him. He lifted his head, his brows arching, and Dimitri grinned and held up a half empty little bottle of bath oil. Well. They certainly hadn’t used it for its _intended_ purpose, Felix thought, faintly. Why not this. 

“Fuck me,” he said, weakly, obediently. Dimitri made a pleased humming sound and moved his newly slick fingers down beneath him, tracing the line of his ass up to his waiting entrance, prodding experimentally at the tight ring there with his fingertips. Felix wiggled against him, lifting himself up to give him better access, and then he shook his head with a little growl. “Turn me around,” he demanded. “Or -- move, let me --” 

Dimitri flicked his gaze up at him, his one eye gone wide. “Felix,” he breathed. 

“Come on.” Felix struggled to sit up, face flaming. “It’s easier. You can -- ah, I want you deep, Dimitri, please --”

“Very well,” Dimitri said again, lowering his face to press an almost reverent kiss on his thigh. Then, as requested, he sat back and let Felix turn himself over, let him arch his back and lift his ass and gather the pillows to him, to hide his face and to muffle all the sounds he was sure to be making, soon. “Gods,” Dimitri murmured, watching him settle himself back down into position. “Felix, Felix… you’re so beautiful, I can hardly stand it…” 

“Shut up,” Felix snapped, lifting his face so the words came out clear and sharp. “Stop talking and, and --” he returned his face to the pillow, muffling himself, “-- _fuck_ me, already, Dimitri, please.” 

Dimitri grabbed him obediently by the hips, pulling him closer, and Felix felt his chest heave and his blood surge as he spread his cheeks gently apart, exposing him to his sight and the open air. He jolted forward in surprise when Dimitri returned his fingers to his entrance, slick still, and again when he poured more oil down to trickle over his ass and down his thighs onto the sheets. _Fuck._

His fingers slid into him, slick and easy, with hardly any resistance at all. Felix wiggled himself back onto them, nodding into the pillows gathered up against him. Yes, yes. Eagerly, quickly, Dimitri spread and stretched him, working him open, making him ready, until finally Felix lifted his head and hissed -- _“Enough,_ ” in a voice that he meant to be commanding and authoritative, but really, just sounded very, pathetically desperate. 

“Say it for me one more time,” Dimitri whispered, even as he shifted and Felix felt him line himself, pressing the blunt head of his cock to his slick and waiting hole.

Felix lifted his head. “Fuck me, Dimitri,” he begged, letting all the anticipation and desire in him color his voice, letting himself sound truly desperate for him, wanton, needy in all the ways he knew Dimitri liked best. 

He heard Dimitri suck in a quick, shallow breath, and then he gripped his hips tight and pushed in, breaching and invading and filling him in one long, hungry, dominating thrust of his hips. 

It felt incredible, as it always did. 

Dimitri loved to be gentle, considerate, to kiss him softly and whisper romantic nonsense sweetly into his ear… but here, like this, worked to such a state, Dimitri loved the permission Felix always gave to fuck him with reckless abandon, just as much. He pulled back without stopping, without any hesitation whatsoever, and snapped his hips forward with a low, pleased moan, sheathing himself fully, fucking him hard. Each thrust moved Felix forward on the bed, so that he had to clutch the headboard in front of him with one hand to avoid being smashed against it, and he was glad all over again for the pillows he could hide his face in, because surely he must have looked utterly -- _ridiculous_ , panting and drooling and crying out in muffled ecstasy as he was. 

“Felix,” Dimitri gasped, above him, draping himself over him, looping his arms around him to hold their bodies tight together as he invaded him mercilessly, again and again. “Felix, yes, so good! So tight for me, so sweet…”

Hah. Even now, like this, he couldn’t help but speak such nonsense. Felix growled into the pillows, rocking back against him, every nerve in his body alive and alight with overstimulated, overwhelmed pleasure. 

“Soon, I,” Dimitri warned him, his thrusts taking on a wild, erratic rhythm. “Close, Felix, so close --” 

Felix lifted his head. “Do it,” he gasped. “Please. Dimitri…” 

“I love it when you say my name,” Dimitri cried, shuddering over him, dragging his lips over the back of his neck. Felix felt his hand move up from one hip, over his sides, up over his back and neck to tangle roughly in his hair. He cried out as Dimitri’s fingers tightened, there, holding him fast. “Say it again,” he begged. “Felix! Cry my name as I fill you!” 

“Dimitri,” he gasped, desperately obedient, blinking rapidly as Dimitri filled him again and hot, overstimulated tears spilled over his cheeks. _Fuck._ “Dimitri,” he called his name, loud and reckless. “Yes, _Dimitri_ , yes!” 

He felt Dimitri jerk in place, felt his body go taut and his fingers tighten painfully in his hair. “Felix,” Dimitri breathed, and then his voice dissolved into wordless moans of pleasure as he bucked forward, spilling himself within. 

When it was done and he was spent, Dimitri slumped over him, breathing hard and ragged, his weight pressing down along Felix’s back. He dragged one hand reverently over his side, and released his relentless, iron grip in his hair, too, letting Felix drop his face back meekly into his pillows. 

They remained like that for awhile, simply catching their breath. 

Eventually, Felix lifted a hand with a meager little groan and slapped blindly and absently up at him. “Heavy,” he complained, barely lifting his chin to speak the word. 

Dimitri chuckled softly atop him. “Of course,” he said, lifting himself onto his hands and knees, pressing another soft, reverent kiss on the back of Felix’s neck. “I’m sorry. Here.” He rolled off of him, gasping quietly as he pulled himself free of Felix’s body at last. He settled himself on the sheets beside him, and Felix turned his face away and wiped a hand over his face to clear it at least cursorily of all his sweat and drool and tears. It was fucking embarrassing, how easily he took him apart! 

“Felix…” Dimitri breathed, softly. “Look at me.” 

He couldn’t very well disobey. Cautiously, he turned his face, blinking at him. Dimitri smiled at him, the expression lighting up his face, as it always did. He was beautiful, too. His one eye practically sparkled in the firelight, drinking him in.

“Thank you,” Dimitri whispered, softly. “For everything. I love you so much.”

Felix squeezed his eyes shut, shivering. “Shut up,” he breathed. “I love you, too.” 

*

They spent the night curled against one another, nude beneath the blankets, a decision that felt wonderful when they made it and terrible the next morning, when they realized they would need to step free of those blankets without even the comfort of their nightclothes against the chill of the morning air. 

As a result, they lingered abed far longer than usual, which was not… the worst thing, Felix supposed. Dimitri’s body was solid and warm and comforting against his, and it was not so often that they woke up together and had the chance to luxuriate in it, this way. 

“How long have you been awake,” he murmured up at Dimitri, curious. 

“Not so long,” Dimitri assured him, his breath stirring Felix’s hair. “Not nearly long enough that you should be worried, I promise you.” 

Felix made a little humming sound and settled back against him, nodding. “Good,” he said, firmly. “How do you feel.” 

Dimitri laughed, quietly. “Physically, or emotionally?” he asked, polite as you please. Felix reached up and gave him a half-hearted swat on the arm. 

“Since when do I ask you about your emotions,” he complained. “ _I’m_ sore, and I barely did anything at all, compared to you.” 

“Oh, I’m plenty sore,” Dimitri assured him. “My back, my arms…” he rolled over atop him, and Felix made a surprised sound, faintly protesting. “My thighs…” Dimitri said, suggestively, brows arched. “How are _you_ feeling?” 

“A bit smothered, if you must know,” Felix said, sourly. Dimitri ducked his head down and kissed his forehead, which hardly improved the situation. “You’re too heavy for this,” Felix complained, even as he wrapped his arms around him, holding him there. “...And, emotionally?” he prompted, when Dimitri simply breathed atop him, in seemingly no hurry to reply. 

“Better,” Dimitri said, simply. “A little foggy, still. I think of the children in the snow, yesterday, and I hear -- I think,” he corrected himself, voice quivering, “I do not deserve such adoration. They think I am some valiant hero, you know.” 

“You _are_ a hero,” Felix said, firmly. “Savior King. They don’t need to know all the grisly detail.” 

“The details you know,” Dimitri said, sadly. 

Felix snorted up at him, shaking his head. “Even knowing what I know, do you see me?” Felix gave his hair a quick, vicious tug. “Do you see where I am? Here in your bed. Here _beneath_ you, struggling to breathe.” 

Dimitri’s brief melancholy seemed to evaporate, then, and he laughed at that, pressing another gentle kiss to his forehead. “A compelling point,” he admitted, gruffly, lifting himself onto hands and knees over him. “Perhaps it’s best to keep those details quiet. I wouldn’t want to unwittingly seduce anyone else.” 

Felix could hear the humor in his voice, dripping from every word. He rolled his eyes. “Very funny,” he said, dismissively… though he couldn’t quite hide the way his arms tightened around him, so very possessively. 

*

Years later, they would say that the Savior King and his sworn shield arrived at the border born proudly on the backs of white gryphons, for Duke Fraldarius had won his duel for the soul of the king, and the Spirit of Winter fled ahead of them, cowed by their combined might and fury. In desperation, it buried the towns of the kingdom beneath mountains of ice and snow in its wake -- for even the Spirits knew that neither the king nor his trusted right hand would allow something so petty as vengeance to stand in the way of compassion and care for all the people of the Kingdom.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on twitter: [@landofsmthsmth](https://twitter.com/landofsmthsmth)


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